Night Gone Wasted
by Jaideum
Summary: A slight mishap in the domestic life of Ronald Weasley causes an unexpected nightly adventure for three men... Such is their lives.


**Disclaimer:** _Thus far, any attempt on my part to own anything whatsoever, has been greatly unsuccessful... This includes my sanity... I miss them..._

**Authors Note: **Written for _The Who, What, When, Where Competition._ My character was _Ron Weasley_, _my_ item was a _note_, and the setting was a _Friday night_, _outside a classroom._ The challenge was set by _JPLE._ I hope it doesn't disappoint.

**Night Gone Wasted**

Throughout the course of time, man has faced a number of challenges, most of which were orchestrated by woman, but one of the most unyielding forces they have been pitted against was the concept of time itself.

This might simply be because, like a woman, time is a wily opponent who knows exactly how to stay a step ahead of the competition. Men though, as is their character, are not to be outdone, and employ their own weapons in this ongoing war.

As with all humans, especially the females, the greatest weapon at their disposal is their minds. A human brain is the most complex organ in existence and man uses it to absorb, dissect and evolve knowledge in such a way that their enemies have to succumb to their superiority. Nevertheless, even this highly evolved organ is no match when pitted against the force that is time, because time, once again, possesses a head start, even if it is less than a second, eighty milliseconds to be precise. For, every thought that passes through the human brain is still eighty milliseconds behind the event, which is being processed at the time.

Therefore, with this margin of a head start in mind, we can understand why Ronald Weasley did not realize he had begun pacing until the eighty-millisecond mark had been reached and his brain had adapted to his circumstances.

Now, whilst his pacing stemmed from an irritated attitude at having to wait, it did not truly serve any purpose besides passing the time. (Here we once again notice a victory for Time.) In fact, once he had realized that his pacing was of a useless nature, he immediately seized the activity and instead focused his attention on assessing his current surroundings.

His pacing had been done outside the Herbology Classroom. It was the place they had decided to meet, and yet, no such meeting had yet to take place. Thus, his pacing had begun and it had lead him onto a train of thought that somehow ended with a distorted image of Neville Longbottem running out of the Classroom, shouting, "It's a Mandrake, it's a Mandrake!" He would have to reconsider the amount of Firewhiskey he consumed, possibly in the distant future.

"Hey."

Ron turned, relief flooding his inner being as he found none other than Harry Potter standing a few feet away from him. He allowed a sigh to escape from his lips, whether in relief of Harry being there, or his liberation from thoughts including Neville and Mandrakes, he did not care to evaluate.

Yet Harry was unable to look at him, instead focusing on the Herbology Classroom's entrance. "We have to stop doing this," he uttered slowly.

"You think I don't know that," Ron replied bitterly.

"If Hermione-"

"I know!" Ron said a bit louder than necessary. He sighed again. "This is the last time... I promise."

Harry shook his head in disbelief, before focusing his attention on the man in front of him. "That's what you said last-"

"Hey guys." Neville Longbottem had just exited the Herbology Classroom, which had previously held both Ron and Harry's attention for short periods of time. "Sorry that I'm late," he continued, oblivious to Harry's stunned expression at his sudden arrival. "The fifth years' papers took longer to grade than I thought they would."

"Neville?" Harry gave Ron a questioning look. This had clearly not been a part of the arrangement, something that was not lost upon Neville, as he abruptly found the Herbology Classroom attracting his attention. (It would be noteworthy to mention that the aforementioned Classroom was not at all displeased at the sudden bursts of attention she received. It had been a while since anyone had looked at her in quite such a way.)

"Ron," Harry complained, seeing that Ron was not about to answer, the man had followed Neville's lead and refocused his attention on other things. "I thought you said this would be quick and simple...!"

"Would you rather I left?" Neville returned, the look on his face suggesting he did not intend to do any such thing.

Harry sighed, casting his eyes upwards as if to beg for help. "How about I leave," he suggested. "And then the two of you do this on your own."

"Bullocks, you have to be here. It's your duty as my best mate," Ron said decisively. He nodded once, as if to ground the statement, then turned and purposefully walked away from the Herbology Classroom.

"Well then," Neville said, his voice far too cheerful for Harry's liking, "Are you coming?"

"As if I have much choice," Harry muttered, as he followed Neville, who was practically bouncing in anticipation. "It was my night of too," he added for good measure.

In their wake, stood the solitary Classroom, assigned to the subject of Herbology, now completely alone in the world, except for a few plants, papers and portraits, but none of them looked at her quite the way those three boys had done.

* * *

"How'd you kill this one then?"

The question rang through the night air outside Hogwarts castle, as three figures, recognized to be our previously mentioned trio of Classroom love-interests, made their way towards the Forbidden Forest.

Thus far, Ron Weasley's only explanation of events had been a small admission that he had in fact invited Neville along and had accordingly decided to choose a place near Hogwarts to deal with his unfortunate predicament.

"I didn't kill it," Ron argued stubbornly, his footsteps leading the way towards the forest. Neville and Harry were trudging along a few feet behind him. The traded looks between the two spoke volumes of their thoughts on Ron's admission. "It was a complete accident," Ron continued, ignorant of the shared testimony behind his back.

Harry gave his companion a subtle nod, a small smile causing his mouth to twitch upwards. "That's what you said about the cat," Neville countered, returning Harry's subtle nod. "And the turtle," Harry continued, enjoying the sense of annoyance emitting from his best friend.

Ron, unable to subdue his annoyance any longer, allowed it to flow out through a look carelessly tossed over his shoulder. "Those _were_ accidents too," he reiterated.

"Don't you think Hermione's going to find it strange that a household pet keeps disappearing every time you're left alone at home?" Harry asked conversationally.

A shiver ran up and down Ron's spine at the thought of his wife finding out about his horrid luck with their pets. Not to mention how the kids would feel, Merlin knew Rose, their eldest, had loved that cat. "Let's not think about that," he said decidedly.

"So how did you kill it then?" Neville questioned impatiently, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

Ron gave a long-suffering sigh. "You need to stop concentrating on the negatives here and think about the amazing person I am for burying dear Albert Ein- Why'd you stop Nev?"

"You named a fish Albert Einstein," Neville stated, barely containing his laughter, which he understood was highly inappropriate during times of death, but certain mannerisms were ultimately unavoidable.

'Rose', Harry mouthed as Ron had once more started his trek into the Forbidden Forest, this time with a noticeable increase in pace. Clearly, the cloudy notions of doubts had begun swirling inside his head, and truly, he could not recall exactly why he'd asked his fellow funeralers to accompany him.

"So how'd you kill it?" Harry yelled in good spirits, any form of cloud having now disappeared from his own mind.

It would be prudent to mention that Neville and Harry both vowed to never allow their children to learn some of the rude gestures Ron Weasley was capable of.

* * *

Entering into the realm, known as the Forbidden Forest, no longer instilled any form of fear within Ron; in fact, it proved to be quite an exhilarating feeling. If truth be told, the former Auror sometimes missed the fast-paced and somewhat threatening life the job offered. Not to say that the joke shop wasn't a challenge in itself, but it just didn't provide the same feeling of heart-racing trauma that working alongside Harry had filled him with.

"It was really all George's fault," he finally said, trying to change the course of his thoughts. They were nearing a clearing that would be perfect for the late Albert Einstein, the goldfish's, burial.

Harry, seeing his chance to try out the new knowledge acquired whilst attending a Muggle class on acting, courtesy of his daughter Lily, made his best effort to appear sympathetic. "Understandable, George is George after all."

"He invented a new sort of pet food that makes these little bubbles pop up above their heads with a thought inside. It's really funny because I don't think any turtle ever really thinks about swimming around the universe carrying a planet, or four elephants. So, I thought I'd give Albert some and give the kids something to laugh about when they got home, but instead of a thought bubble popping up above his head... well, it kind of started swelling inside of him- and- he just- well, you know..." Ron trailed of, his hands forming the universal sign for a massive bang.

Neville grimaced, his wand still half-raised in the act of spelling a shovel to dig a small hole. "So what are we burying then?"

Ron gently extracted a small bag from inside his robes. It looked to contain bits of red and gold scales, some liquid and something that looked an awful lot like an eye. "It was all I could find," he explained despondently.

"Huh," Harry said, head tilted slightly to take a proper look at the eye. "You actually sent me a note, saying I had to be outside the Herbology classroom at seven o'clock on a Friday- my only work free night this week, may I add –to bury some icky bits of a fish."

Ron snorted, once again proving that mannerisms were sometimes unavoidable. "Icky? Really Harry?"

"My daughter's seven, what are you going to do?"

* * *

Everything went according to plan for at least fifteen minutes after the presentation of Albert Einstein's remains. The grave had been dug, the goldfish had been buried with a great deal of fake coughs and awkward speeches, which Ron insisted had to be done, in case Rose were to find out and hold him responsible for Albert's soul not going to the proper fishbowl in the sky. Thus, it was with great trepidation that the trio made their way back out of the forest and towards the castle.

Such a feeling of trepidation was certainly warranted if one was familiar with the previous exploits of this particular trio. In fact, it was such an expected outcome of the night's events that Ron Weasley did not even flinch when an unexpected noise occurred and a strange glow could be felt around the three men.

They turned in union, staring back into the forest, only to find one of the purest creatures watching them with an unneeded amount of attention. "A Unicorn?" Neville muttered, disbelief coloring his tone. A Unicorn was not the type of excitement he had been expecting when he had agreed to this outing. Giant spiders, yes, Flesh-eating Flobberworms, possibly, but definitely not a Unicorn.

"Should we just ignore it?" Ron asked. The unicorn raised its head, and what the men saw in the animal's eyes could only be described as pure hatred. Ron shook his head once to clear it, "On second thought, can we fight it?"

"No," Harry answered. "It's pure; we kill it, it turns into some real bad luck for us."

"So?" Ron questioned again, as the unicorn took a step towards them. "Shall we run?"

"Let's," were the last words uttered by both Harry Potter and Neville Longbottem, before the only sounds that could be heard, were those of three men's footfalls as they ran at a speed previously unbeknownst to humans all around the world. In their wake was left a Unicorn, slightly confused, but tremendously traumatized by the events it had just witnessed.

* * *

The Herbology Classroom was giddy with excitement. The source of her excitement could be trailed back to three men, currently standing outside of her, one leaning against her wall as the other two stood bent over, trying to catch their breath. She was unsure of the reason for their return, but she desperately hoped it would be because of her. She listened intently as the red-haired one spoke.

"Bloody hell," Ron complained, all hopes of becoming a sophisticated man drowning with his words. Not that Ron Weasley had ever had any sort of aspiration to be a sophisticated man, but it was probably worth mentioning none the less.

"I second the motion," Neville muttered, silently vowing that this was the last expedition he would attend.

"I am never reading anything you've written me ever again," Harry continued, a bit louder than was necessary. "Especially on Friday's when I have a free night."

Ron had finally caught his breath and was now busying himself by dusting a fair amount of invisible dust off his robes. "I don't think that went too badly," he said conversationally, avoiding any form of eye contact whatsoever.

"We never speak of this," Neville intoned seriously. "Do you know what my students will think if they found out I ran away from a Unicorn?"

Harry couldn't help smiling slightly at the thought, but then realized that his Auror trainee's would probably have more to say than Neville's students. "We shouldn't talk about this then," he agreed eagerly.

"Of course we can't talk about it," Ron said, his voice betraying a sincere amount of annoyance. "If we talk about it, Hermione will find out and I'll never be trusted with a pet again."

Harry gave a halfhearted shrug, obviously tired. "That might not necessarily be a _bad_ thing," he replied. "I think I'll be going home then," he added, scanning the hallway once.

"I could really use some sleep too," Neville, agreed absently, his thoughts still lingering on his students' possible reactions.

Ron nodded mutely. At least he had been able to dispose of the evidence during all of it. Hopefully, that would give him a free pass with this particular mishap.

The trio of Unicorn-fleers exchanged words of farewell, before Ron and Harry left in one direction and Neville headed towards his own sleeping quarters.

Once more, the Herbology Classroom was left without so much as a backwards glance. Her heart ached for the longing looks she knew had once been directed at her, but alas, it would seem that her fate had been sealed; her only company would be that of the schoolchildren who trampled through her doors, unable to comprehend her needs. She settled back into her being and told herself that it was as it should be, and though she was just a Classroom in a castle, her own form of brain took just as long, eighty milliseconds, to realize that she had indeed made her peace with the evening's tragic events.


End file.
